


Repose

by Arfang_Red



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arguing, Drama, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arfang_Red/pseuds/Arfang_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> "The next day, he woke up on the couch and woke up late-late, because the sun was high up the sky. He gingerly sat up as he eased the crick that formed on his neck. He went to the table only to stop dead. He saw that there is no steaming black coffee beside the recent edition of the Prophet.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Harry did not go home.</i>"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Repose

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first Snarry I have done last year. Like my other one shots, this has the usual fluff-angst combination. Cross-posted from ffnet.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Vanilla Twilight is written by Owl City. 

Warnings: The characters maybe a bit OOC. Established relationship, Slash, fluff...you have been warned.

(--Because you have evaded me, sweet serenity--) 

_\---The stars lean down to kiss you...and I lie awake and miss you. Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere. ‘Cause I doze off safe and soundly but I’ll miss your arms around me. I’ll send a postcard to you dear, ‘cause I wish you were here.---_

It was their most epic fight ever since they were married six years ago, there were screaming and slamming of things involved, usually their fights were solved through talking but now, it seems it was not. What is worse is that they don’t even remember what why they started fighting. It was just that, things from the past was dredged up and used as knives to pry open healing wounds of the past.

Harry left the house abruptly after that, slamming the front door so hard that it rattled on its hinges. Severus didn’t even bother going after his husband, feeling very frustrated and angry himself. That night, he planned to go to bed early only to be awake and in the living room, sitting on the couch with a bottle of fire whiskey to accompany him.

The next day, he woke up on the couch and woke up late-late, because the sun was high up the sky. He gingerly sat up as he eased the crick that formed on his neck. He went to the table only to stop dead. He saw that there is no steaming black coffee beside the recent edition of the Prophet.

 

Harry did not go home.

_\---I watch the night turn light-blue, it’s not the same without you because it takes two to whisper quietly. The silence isn’t so bad till I look at my hands and feel sad ‘cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly.---_

He didn’t have work in St. Mungo’s today so he was left to fend for himself. He tried to distract his traitorous thoughts in reading the Potioneer’s Journal but found himself staring at one page, darkening green eyes haunting his thoughts.

With a growl, he threw the journal back to the side-table and stared at the blank expanse of light brown wall in front of him. He was angry, yes but he can’t help but worry. Harry had this proclivity of attracting trouble almost everywhere he is. He growled again, but this time in frustration-not because of Harry but because of himself- why can’t he stay mad at that brat for a long time?

He floo-ed the Weasleys, the Ronald and Hermione Weasley in particular, and asked if Harry is with them.

“I am sorry, sir but Harry is not here. Did something happen?” Hermione Weasley asked him. He replied a negative and brushed her concern for him and his husband off- concern for his huband even more.

He went to Diagon Alley to the Weasleys twins’ shop in search his husband but didn’t find him. He also visited his godson, Draco Malfoy and asked if Harry passed by.

“Harry did pass by only to visit his godson and didn’t even stay for tea, why are you finding him Sev?”

Severus scowled for a moment when he heard that nickname, there are only three people in the world-one is dead- who calls him that infernal nickname. He told his godson about what happened in a curt narration and at the end of his narration; Draco had a condescending expression in his face.

“He won’t be staying here if you fought, Sev. He knew that you’ll find him here and that is not the purpose now, isn’t it?”

Severus clamped the urge to snarl at his godson’s condescension, sometimes the Malfoy expressions are amusing at best but when it is used against him at the most inopportune times, he gets thoroughly murderous. He was getting worried, where in the world was Harry?

“Hmmm...Maybe he is in Hogwarts. He might be drinking tea with the old cat or having chat with Longbottom and his wife.” Draco said nonchalantly as he took a sip from his tea.

Of course, why didn’t he think of that?

He thanked Draco for the tea and went his way to search for his ‘missing’ husband.

“Oh, and Sev?” Draco called and he halted to a stop, not bothering to face the younger man. “If I ever see Harry that sad again because of you, I will kill you myself. Let us just be thankful that Hermione, her husband and especially Ginevra didn’t see him yesterday.”

Severus said nothing. He didn’t have anything in his defence after all. He merely made his way out of the Black House, the ‘hideout’ of the Blacks long ago, given by Harry to Draco after the Malfoy’s heir acquittal ten years ago.

It was dusk and the gloomy skies of Scotland were being swathed in darkness. He already went to Hogwarts and asked Minerva if Harry dropped by. The Headmistress said Harry only visited only to chat with Longbottom and his wife, Ginevra. He headed home after that, thinking that Harry might have arrived.

He sat on the window seat on Harry’s favourite room in the two-storey Queen Anne style house: the sunroom. He leaned on the cool glass, watching as the stars above make their appearance. He had not yet eaten. On contrary to popular belief, not all Potion Masters are excellent cooks. He really didn’t have any penchant in cooking, he left that to the house elves, or ever since he married, to Harry.

Their house elf, Binge, offered to cook for him but he refused. In all of his six years of married life, he only ate the food Harry cooks and eating the house elf’s cooking made him feel...cheating on his husband and felt absolutely ridiculous to think about that but still stood by it.

Usually, when Harry does not work and at the same time he had no duties in the hospital, they both watch muggle movies or watch the sun rise together in this sunroom. Those are very Gryffindor-ish things to do (Gryffindors seem to have a penchant to overly sentimental situations) but he found out that he didn’t mind doing it somehow, especially seeing the happiness that seem to make those green eyes shine.

He felt...alone watching the sunrise and he felt scared when he felt that. Has he truly depended on Harry’s presence all these years? Can six years really do much to a person? It must be since all he was thinking about was having Harry in his arms and their hands entwined as they watch the sun rise or talking about random topics in hushed voices. Having Harry away with no assurance that he will be back felt like he was losing half of himself and he felt amazed and alarmed at that at the same time. It seems like Harry took half of himself with him, wherever he goes.

He continued to look at the rising sun with those thoughts in mind, a troubled expression finding its way on his face.

__

\---I find repose in new ways for I haven’t slept in two days ‘cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone. But drenched in vanilla twilight, I sit on the front porch all night, waist deep in thought because when I think of you, I don’t feel so alone.--- 

It was two days since Harry left and two days since the last time he slept properly and ate something decent. He asked Draco’s help to check (discreetly, of course) if the Weasleys if Harry was staying there only to receive a negative.

A horrible thought struck him that night as he sat on the white deck chair on the porch, waiting for Harry. _What if Harry left?_ A small, traitorous voice added maliciously, _Harry have found someone much better than you, someone who’ll never let him down, someone who never had a bad history with him._ He tried not listening to it but the poison it brought was already hazing in his mind, turning the idea over and over again like some art connoisseur, inspecting it for more and more angles. As a product of this thoughts, he felt a mixture of blinding jealousy, impotent rage and insecurity of the thousand faceless, nameless men that might have Harry and he paused for a moment of his raging because this onslaught of emotion completely took him by surprise but later on, he decided that it wasn’t really surprising.

Being married and spending his life with Harry was all about...feeling. Harry has managed to break down those walls that kept him...separated from the world. He managed to break those walls he have built ever since he can remember and he realized that ‘feeling’ with Harry was one of the most exhilarating experiences he ever had in his life.

He felt that unswerving certainty that no, Harry wouldn’t leave him. He knew his husband very well, Harry is as loyal as a Hufflepuff when it comes to his promises, and he never breaks on his word. How many times over the years of their marriage did the brat told him, at the most random times that he is very thankful that he came into his life? But it can’t be helped, he suppose. He was a man with a dark past after all; he may have a lot of insecurities lurking in his psyche.

__

\---As many times as I blink, I’ll think of you tonight.... ...If my voice could reach back through the past, I’d whisper in your ear: ‘Oh darling, I wish you were here.’--- 

He stood on the dark doorway of the gloomy house. The neighbours were still asleep, if the lack of human presence or activities in the particular street indicates anything. He sighed lowly and shivered. The cold morning air was biting his poorly insulated body.

He stepped at the porch and felt the wards he made recognize him and let him pass. He grasped the cold bronze handle of the door and turned it. A dark, cold threshold greeted him, giving off an ominous vibe through him. He shivered again and silently called for Binge, who immediately appeared and gave a deep bow.

He asked where was the other occupant and the house elf began wringing his hands in a show of nervousness. For a moment, he felt fear shot into his heart like an ice and immediately asked if anything undue happened while he was away.

“Master Sev’rus is not eating, sir. He not sleeping too. Master Sev’rus is waiting for you, Master.”

He thanked the house elf, who looked relieved that it didn’t do anything wrong and popped out, he strode to the living room only to find it empty and continued search upstairs. He found Severus in the window seat they share on workless days, just lazing or watching the sunrise. His husband was looking weary and his usual kept and immaculate appearance rumpled. His hair was looking greasy for the first time ever since they married. Though he cannot see his eyes due to the curtain of ebony hair, he saw the fatigue in the man’s hunched posture.

Severus was holding a silver picture frame and that particular frame was Hermione’s ‘congratulatory’ gift to him when Severus asked his hand in marriage. The frame held a picture of him and Severus on a bench in the Hogwarts gardens. He was leaning to Severus in that picture and Severus was wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The picture was taken by Ron’s muggle camera, a gift from Hermione (and charmed to work around magical environment) and Hermione took the picture unknowingly, teaching Ron how to use it in the process. It was a simple picture but the memories and the emotion between the picture’s subjects is very overwhelming.

Harry saw Severus drag a long finger on the photo, in what looks like a loving caress. Harry was surprised that his husband didn’t notice him on the doorway, but two days of not eating and sleeping will do that. Harry had enough of it, he was feeling very worried and guilty.

“Severus,” he called in a low murmur, a bit hesitant and unsure.

That soft call that broke the unerring silence had produced the desired effect, Severus’ head snapped to the doorway where Harry was standing, looking tired and unsure but Severus apparently didn’t see that but instead he looked at Harry with a blank expression, the obsidian orbs were not blank otherwise, they were fiery with emotions. Harry met the smouldering black orbs directly, seeing through the blank mask that he have learned to read after a long time: Awe, disbelief and the much more apparent emotion, relief.

“You came back.” Severus breathed finally as he stood from the window seat with the same liquid grace that Harry both fell for and envied tremendously and neared him. “You came home.”

Harry nodded and took a hesitant step towards the other man. Severus grunted in irritation to this hesitation and pulled Harry forward which caused Harry to lose balance and fell on Severus’ chest. The man brought his hand up and carded the silky raven locks.

“I thought...I thought you left.” Severus continued and Harry heard the missing ‘permanently’ in that. Harry, wanting to reassure his husband that he did not and will never leave him, brought his arms up and wrapped it on the man’s torso,

“I told you I will not leave you, Sev. I will keep repeating that promise until you will not doubt it. I will not leave Sev because you are all I need. You are the only person that grounds me, the only person that matches me in all way possible. Besides, there is no one with your sense of humour, love.” Harry said, trying to lighten the atmosphere but it seems Severus was in too much deep thought to even recognize his lame joke. Oh well.

“I...apologize, Harry. I was overstepping boundaries last time. I-” Severus was cut off when a cold finger was laid on his lips.

“I did those too, love. I knew that one day these...things from the past will haunt us but I am hoping that it would never destroy us?” He phrased that as a question because this time, it is husband that will need to soothe his insecurities. Severus, ever the observant that Harry was beginning to think borderline emphatic, caught on the tinge of hesitation that once again tinged his tone.

“It won’t love. I promise that.” Severus said resolutely. With those words exchanged within them, everything was back to normal except they are surer with each other. It is always just like that, words exchanged between them will always make them secure with each other. They are both glad and relieved as the tension in the atmosphere dissipated, making it...easier to breathe.

“Good.” Harry said as he pressed a kiss on Severus’ firm jaw.

 

 

_-fin.-_

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Where did Harry go, btw? I really didn’t think of it but when I asked my sister, in all but blood, Marilyn. She told me, “I thought Harry Potter’s parents were buried in the same village he was born?” I told her yes, they were. She gave this brilliant idea (she always does give the most brilliant ideas at the right time.) “It is possible that Harry went to the village and visited his parents’ grave, you know in the movies? Sons or daughters talking to the graves?” or something like that. So, yeah, I took that idea but I didn’t state it in the story.


End file.
